


These Walls Are Crumbling (I am, too)

by LexWithAnX



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Child Abandonment, Gen, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Lonely TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sad, Toby Smith | Tubbo and TommyInnit are Siblings, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, oh this is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:54:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28441998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexWithAnX/pseuds/LexWithAnX
Summary: Tommy is pretty sure his life actually fucking sucks. But at least he has Henry, and has never had to resort to stealing (all the time, at least).
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 75
Kudos: 708





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> don't know if this is gonna have a happy ending, probably not, tho :D

_“What’s more painful than being abandoned? Being abandoned without a word - realizing you aren’t even worth an explanation.” -Unknown_

Coldness nips at his fingers like it was his cow, Henry, biting gently at him to get him to pet him. Tommy breathes heavily, and though he can see the fog that his breath makes in the chilly air, it still feels as though he hadn’t breathed at all. There is a moment where it’s like Tommy feels every molecule and atom of oxygen reach his lungs, extend and separate itself between all of his veins and arteries, trying it’s best to keep him alive. 

But just as the moment comes, it goes, disappearing in a quick second that leaves Tommy begging for its return. What a nightmare his life has become, he thinks humorlessly as he trudges through the snow and ice. Memories of warmth from a fire place and jokes mingling with laughs and giggles poke and prod at him tauntingly, teasing him with the familiarity and comfort. Tommy shakes his head, trying to forget the better times, because he knows if he remembers too hard, too much, it’ll just leave him feeling hollow like the times it has before.

They don’t vanish, however, and seem to grow stronger as his vision spots with black, colors dancing nauseatingly quick around his eyes as if someone is drawing inside his eyes, projecting what he sees. His brothers and father comforting him when he was ill, bedridden with sickness. Techno teaching him how to fight from the sun’s beautiful golden dawn to the moon’s bittersweet silver glow.

It’s almost so realistic Tommy can nearly feel the childish giggles leaving his chest as Wilbur gives him piggyback rides to the village, his father’s laughter echoing through the trees as he follows after them. Practically touches Tubbo as the older boy gives him facts of bees and other wildlife they were surrounded by, a forest’s travel from the nearest village giving them lots of room to play.

A whimper escapes past his tinting blue lips, and Tommy buries himself deeper into the jackets he’d wrapped around himself before leaving. Snow glimmers in the moon’s loving gaze, sparkling up at him. There are so many inches of snow that grass can no longer peak through and ruin the snow’s illusion of a blanket.

Thoughts peak at him, overwhelming him as he thinks of the extravagant birthday celebrations and incredibly decorated holiday parties his family had thrown when he’d been younger. Their cottage had never been empty, always full of warmth and family. Bursting with life and love, laughter heard from miles away. Tommy had always known they weren’t the richest, or the closest family, but they were his, and they were perfect. 

But things change. It was a natural part of life, and Tommy would be lying if he said he hated all change ~~he feared it~~. But things do, indeed, change, and sometimes, not everything can be laughter and piggyback rides and sweets from the village baker. 

When he was nine, his brother Techno had left. Tommy couldn’t recall the events leading up to his brother leaving, but he could remember the few moments he’d had with Techno before he disappeared forever. He’d had his cape’s hood over his head, something that was rare despite the man’s pig ears and snout-like nose, and a knife glinted in the fire’s light, tucked into his belt. He’d said a stumbling, shaking goodbye, and Tommy had grinned, foolishly, naively, at him, yelling out a, “Bye Blade!” before watching his older brother ~~his protector~~ walk out. 

Two months later, three days after he’d turned the big double digits, ten, Wilbur had left. Unlike Techno’s situation, Tommy could vividly remember the days leading up to Wilbur leaving. On the day of his birthday, Wilbur and his father had screamed and shouted at each other until their throats were sore and raw. Tommy had cried to Tubbo, who could only offer him a cookie from the cookie jar as consolement. 

Then, the screaming and shouting stopped, but before Tommy or Tubbo could even let out a breath of relief, the front door slammed shut so loud and so violently that Tommy feared it broke. Phil had said Wilbur would be back in a few days, if only it was to collect his things. He never came back, and Techno and Wilbur’s doors were left shut, as if they had never lived there in the first place. 

And so the house, once so full of life and happiness, was dead and silent. 

Phil had let their garden, previously prosperous with well-grown potatoes and carrots, die, filled with weeds and crows that came to eat the remnants of their hard work. The dishes in the sink piled high, and food ran out quick, whether it be by Tommy or Tubbo eating it, or rats or other rodents sneaking in and scurrying off with it. 

One night, months after Wilbur had left, Tommy had come out of his room to the living room, sleepily confused at the commotion he’d been woken up from. His dad had looked over at him, trying to fit a coat over Tubbo’s sleeping form, and smiled weirdly. Only years later would Tommy realize the smile was sad, and almost pitiful. 

“We’ll be back by morning, Tommy. Don’t worry, I just have to get a few things from the market, and Tubbo said he would help me pick out a few snacks.” Phil had said. Tommy hadn’t questioned why Tubbo was still sleeping, or why they didn’t just wait ‘till morning, or even why his dad had a bag they usually used for camping on his back.

Instead, he’d nodded acceptingly, said he wanted some biscuits from the baker, and went back to his room to sleep. Sleep on a bed that was full of pillows that came from other bedrooms and sleep under blankets that oddly didn’t smell like him. Tommy had gazed out his window at the stars and the moon, naively thinking he’d be gifted with biscuits in the morning before sleep overtook him. 

But the next morning had come and gone, and then noon, and the next thing Tommy knew it was night and Tommy knew he was alone. Tears had streamed down his face, which was red and burning with embarrassment. He was humiliated. Sobs had left him feeling exhausted, and Tommy had laid on the living room couch for hours, switching in and out of consciousness, the times he was awake feeling like hell on Earth. 

He’d been so afraid to get out of bed, or move away from his position lying, wilting and withering away, on the couch. So afraid of what the thoughts might make him do if he so much as budged. It terrified him, so Tommy had curled up in himself, hitting the sides of his head rhythmically to get the thoughts to leave him alone. 

The thoughts just kept coming back, and Tommy eventually had just given up on his fear. It was surprising to him, how quickly being left alone had broken him, especially since he was such a spirited ten year old. He’d gone to the animal pens, and curled up with one of the new calfs, a small cow he’d taken to calling Henry. Not so secretly, he was Tommy’s favorite, despite being the runt of the litter. Maybe it was because Tommy could relate. 

“Why would they leave?” Tommy asked the small cow, tears burning his eyes. Deep down inside him, he knew why Phil had left with Tubbo instead of him. He was sickly, always prone to illnesses and he got the flu every time it came around. Tubbo was sturdier, showed more promise than Tommy- he almost never got sick. 

The cow, though he couldn’t speak back, seemed to sense his sadness, and nudged his hand, mooing softly as if trying to comfort the young boy. Tommy couldn’t leave the animals to starve, or live in squalor, so he took the minimal training he’d learned over the years from his dad and older brothers and put it to use. 

From then on, Tommy, at only age ten, resolved he’d just have to rely on himself from then on. Tommy was quick to get ill, and one time when he was twelve, he’d gotten so sick he passed out for a least two days while he body desperately tried to revive itself.

Now, he was sixteen, and Tommy feels like he’s dying. Snow falls around him, and even as his body screams and sobs out pleas for him to just _lie down,_ he doesn’t. Tommy blearily opens his eyes, feeling his vision cloud with spots and snow feeling heavy on his eyelashes despite them feather light. There, in the distance, is his cottage, one of the candles in the window guiding him closer, as Tommy could no longer rely on his fuzzy vision.

“Juh...Just a little… more,” He slurs to himself, trying to be encouraging but even to him it sounds pathetic. Phil had been right to choose Tubbo over him- at least Tubbo wouldn’t be dying on his walk home. _But it’s so cold, and it hurts,_ his mind whimpers. Tommy decides to ignore his thoughts, and wiggles his fingers slowly, trying to get the feeling back into them. 

It only works a little bit, the feeling still numbed because of how long he’s been in the deep winter snow. He finally crashes against the front door of his cottage, feeling the heat from inside radiate to the outside. Tommy shakily tries to open the door. It takes a few tries, but eventually he’s practically sobbing as he finally gets inside.

This is the first time it’s snowed this year, and it’d taken Tommy by surprise. Usually it wasn’t until later into the colder months that the white flurries started to collect enough to cover the ground in white. That was the routine, and Tommy didn’t hate change, ~~he kind of did,~~ but it was off putting to see snow start to form this early in the year. 

It was the same routine everyday. Back when he’d been small, Wilbur and Techno would let him and Tubbo chase the chickens and explore the woods, as long as they didn’t go too far, as they worked in the fields and with the bigger animals. Phil would back muffins as a dessert for after dinner, and Tommy would be allowed to crack an egg or two, maybe stir the ingredients in the bowl if he promised his dad he wouldn’t make a mess.

Now he was barely given a chance to relax- running a farm all by yourself certainly kept you busy. Tommy collapses on the couch, after dropping the bags of groceries on the ground, feeling himself begin to warm already. He removes his arms from the the jackets- which weren’t his, nothing he wore now was his- and rearranges them to sit on top of him like blankets. The shoes- which were slightly too big because even at sixteen Tommy still didn’t fit Techno’s old winter boots- are harder to kick off, but he managed after a bit of struggling. 

His eyes droop at the warmth and comfort the old, creaky couch offered. Tommy knows he shouldn’t sleep on the couch, it’d only make him wake up with an achy back and sore neck tomorrow, but before he can really think on it, he’s slipping into the peaceful world of unconsciousness, where his brothers and father are still here, and Tommy didn’t have to grow up scared out of his mind of the mobs that stalked his cottage at night, and didn’t have to worry about whether or not he’d be eating this week. 

Every morning, Tommy wakes up, expecting to see his brothers and his dad there. The windows would be fixed, and the cracks in the walls would be just a trick of his eyes, and breakfast would already be prepared and hot, ready for him to eat with his family all around him. And for a few seconds every morning, everything in the world seems perfect.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tommy doesn't want to fall for his family again. he can't take them leaving again, he'd probably die. but the prospect of them being home and loving him is so tempting he can't stop himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u guys for the kind words!! <3
> 
> TW for this Chapter: kinda graphic descriptions of violent fighting

_"I'm not living. I'm breathing and just trying to make it to tomorrow." -Unknown_

He wakes to the sound of absent noise floating around and above him. Tommy is not one to talk before sending his fists flying, so he opens his eyes to assess his situation before throwing caution to the wind and jumping from his vulnerable position on the couch. The jackets are pushed off of him and he’s standing in a few quick moments.

The movements and motions are quick and easy, familiar despite their lack of use in recent years. Tommy looks between all the people in his cottage, expecting masks, or at least unfamiliar faces. But he feels his stomach go hollow when the faces that peer back at him are so achingly similar to his long lost family. His fists, only moments ago ready to be put to use, drop, and lose their tight grips as his family ~~could he call them that, anymore?~~ look at him cautiously. 

Truth be told, Tommy had dreamed of this moment. Of them coming back home with apologies and explanations on the tips of their tongues, telling him they thought of him every day they were away from him. He had fantasized of his heart, once again after so long of being empty, being so full of love to the point of bursting for the family that had left him behind, all those years ago. 

What he had not imagined happening, however, was how nauseating it was to look at them. Tommy feels like he was actually about to throw up, he felt so sick to his stomach as he took them in. At first glance, other than Tubbo, they look the same. Like nothing had changed. Like they’d been gone six minutes, not six years. Tubbo looks older, as to be expected, but his eyes are still that dark, forest green, and he still dresses as if he doesn’t have lights in his house. 

“Tommy?” Phil asks, the name feeling odd, coming from his dad’s mouth. He makes eye contact with the older man, his mouth feeling dry and his throat clamping tightly around his vocal chords. He looks rugged, stubble lining his chin and jaw, slight bags under his eyes and his hair, grown out longer than he’d had it when Tommy was ten, is sticking up in places. But he still has the green and white bucket hat, angled to not fall off his head. 

Tears come to his eyes, pricking and burning at him. Tommy swallows audibly, “Phil,” He says calmly, the word coming out a little sharper than he’d intended it. Some self righteous part of him grins at the flinch his father gives as the greeting he’d given stabs at him. “What…” He trails off, truthfully not knowing what to say and also knowing if he kept talking he’d probably start crying. “What are you guys… doing here?” He asks slowly.

He knows most people would react with screaming and anger, but Tommy is stronger than that. Long ago had he given up the anger that plagued his bones and made him shake until he sobbed. Tommy stopped feeling angry a long time ago, now it was just numb resignation. Wilbur and Techno share a glance, which makes Tommy question if they’d stayed in contact after they’d left. He doesn’t know why the thought hurts to think about. 

Tubbo lets out a sob, tinging with relief, which Tommy doesn’t understand, and he comes closer to Tommy. Tommy, who hasn’t had to comfort people in years. Tommy, who hasn’t hugged another person since he was ten years old. Tubbo, who hugs him tightly as he wraps warm, protecting arms around him and lets out a sob against his shoulder, full of hurried apologies and rushed murmurs of ‘I missed you’ and ‘I love you’. In between the words are thankful prays to God. 

Behind Tubbo, the rest of his family still stand. He looks between them, looks carefully at all their faces. All of them look like a mix of relief, guilt, and love. Tommy can’t stand it, and he feels gross as his shirt starts to wet where Tubbo is quite literally sobbing into his shoulder. He hesitates, but it’s a really just a courtesy before pushing Tubbo away and curling in on himself slightly. 

The overwhelming amount of hurt on Tubbo’s face is like a shot to the heart. Tommy had always been protective of Tubbo when they were younger, despite being the youngest. He looks at Tubbo, and purses his lips, “Did you guys need something?” He asks, short and to the point because he doesn’t think he can handle any more of being used as a pillow, or stared at like he’s some strange new zoo exhibit. 

“We-we’re back! Tommy, we m-missed you so much,” Tubbo stumbles over his words, smiling weakly at him. He’s shorter than Tommy, by quite a bit, though this doesn’t really surprise the blond. 

He flinches at the confession. Tommy is not angry, not really. But he’d given up on the hope they’d come back years ago, and now they just waltz in like they hadn’t left a sickly ten year old to fend for himself? “You should just,” He pauses, “just go. You shouldn’t have come back.” He says, looking down at the groceries he’d been too tired to put up last night. Tommy grabs the bags, and goes to the kitchen, pointedly ignoring the heartbreak on his family’s faces.

There isn’t a wall separating the kitchen from the living room, the entire cottage mostly an open floor plan. So Tommy can’t even glance over at the couch or anything because he’d most definitely see his family. Techno, surprisingly, is the first one to respond. He looks angry, and Tommy almost laughs- cackles, probably. What right did Techno, of all people, have to be angry with him?

“What do you mean ‘we shouldn’t have come back’?! We came back for you, Tommy!” Techno yells as Tommy calmly starts to put up the bread and carrots. “You should be-!” He starts to yell again, before Tommy turns with frightening speed to look over at him.

His eyes narrow at his brother, face set into a sneer. He’s not angry. Tommy can’t still be angry. “I should be what, Techno? Grateful? Happy? What should I be?!” He screams, fists hitting the island counter that separates Techno from himself. The situation reminds him, staggeringly, of Wilbur and Phil’s fights the days leading up to his other brother leaving. 

_Wilbur throws a plate on the ground, face pinched into an angry, furious scowl. Phil looks down at the smashed pieces of fragile glass before rage flickers across his face and he looks up at Wilbur. “What the fuck are you doing?” He shrieks, slamming down another plate onto the counter. It doesn’t break, but any harder, Phil thinks, and it would have shattered._

_”You can’t just hide letters from me, Phil!” Wilbur screams back, both ignorant to the two young children in their bedrooms, crying for the yelling to just stop, for even a moment. “I deserve to know! Techno is my fucking brother!” He shouts, pushing a chair out of the way to get closer to the older man. Phil’s face flashes with guilt, but it’s gone in seconds and soon he’s yelling, too._

_Phil pushes Wilbur back away from the glass pile, “You know Techno doesn’t want you to follow him, Wilbur!” Phil yells, eyes narrowed in hurt and anger. When Techno had left, Wilbur had sobbed for days. Phil physically hurt, keeping this secret from his son. But he needed to respect Techno’s wishes. Wilbur would be okay, he just needed to give it time._

_The amount of hurt and pain on Wilbur’s face almost made Phil tell him everything. But he just watched as Wilbur’s chocolate brown eyes, once so full of happiness, fill with unshed tears. And he just watched as Wilbur adjusts his beanie, and without even a last look, slams the front door when he leaves. Phil can’t help but let out a sob as he falls to his knees in the kitchen._

“Tommy, please. We wanna make things right.” Wilbur says, coming closer, along with Tubbo. The only one still in the living room is Phil, seemingly dissociating from the situation as a whole, face pinched with guilt and sorrow. Tommy wants to feel guilty, wants to say he’s sorry and that he is happy they’re back. But he’s not guilty, nor is he happy.

He makes hesitant eye contact with Wilbur, who is still tall and lanky like he had been when he’d left. His hair is curly, and his eyes are brown. But there is a touch of sadness on his overall person, which makes Tommy curl his shoulders a little bit more. “Why come now?” He whispers, tears making their second appearance as he sniffles a little, desperate to not cry in front of his family. “Why, after all these years?” He asks, looking up to meet Wilbur’s eyes once again. 

Something akin to regret contorts on Wilbur’s face, and he looks almost as broken down as Tommy feels. He opens his arms a little, inviting Tommy for a hug he eagerly wants to accept. The urge to just fall into his older brother’s arms is overwhelmingly strong, and Tommy craves to just melt into his embrace. But he shakes his head slightly, and Wilbur lets his arms drop, looking pained and ashamed. 

Techno, finally, pipes up again. “Tubbo and Phil saw us when we were visiting a village for more supplies, and when we realized Phil had left you behind,” A glare is thrown toward the older man, “We came back.” He explains. Tommy looks between all of them, a frown small on his lips, and he can’t think of anything else to do, so he grabs the potatoes and starts to put them up. 

“Tommy?” Tubbo asks, looking meek and nervous as he comes closer to him. Tommy looks over at him, “Yeah?” He asks, putting the potatoes up before closing the pantry door and turning to face him. He feels his stomach clench at the older boy’s face, but Tommy doesn’t really know if it’s emotional pain or because he hasn’t eaten in almost an entire day.

It’s quiet for a second, before Tubbo throws himself at Tommy again, pulling Tommy’s head down, forcibly putting Tommy’s head in the crook of where Tubbo’s shoulder and neck met. Against his better judgement, Tommy wraps his own arms around Tubbo, feeling himself sag into the other’s body. He breathed heavily against Tubbo’s neck, feeling his throat tighten. His shoulders start to shake, and he lets out a sob.

“I missed you guys so much, oh my god.” He whispers, voice breaking as he sobs. Tubbo doesn’t shush him, or try to make it better. He justs curls around Tommy like Tommy is curled around him, and rubs his back comfortingly. “I was so alone,” He whimpers, remembering the nights where the only memories of his family came from the blankets that came from other bedrooms.

Two other pair of arms wrap around him, and he only flinches a little when he feels himself be surrounded by his family. After a few moments, Tommy hesitantly looks up and over toward Phil. His dad looks miserable, and full of so much regret that Tommy feels himself flinch at the strong, radiating emotion. “Hey, dad?” He asks, meekly meeting his father’s eyes. Phil smiles again that weird, depressingly sad smile.

“Yeah, Toms?” He asks, voice weak and slow, eyes crinkled with crows feet wrinkles. Tommy grins carefully at him, and puts a hand out, “You wanna join?” He asks quietly. He feels Techno’s grip on him tighten, but he just gives Phil a reassuring smile, and the man, looking a little more than just uncertain, comes over. 

“I’m so sorry, Toms.” Phil whispers, so quiet that Tommy is pretty sure not even Tubbo heard the quiet apology. Tommy just tightens his grip on Phil’s shirt. They’ll have to talk about this later, he’s 100% positive. But right now Tommy is so tired, and he’s just been so numb for the past few years that any type of emotion, no matter how minor, makes him want to collapse.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tubs and toms bonding :DD toward the end tho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> legit thought i had covid earlier this week, but it was just a respiratory infection :P

_"Sorry that I love you more than you will ever love me." -Unknown_

Tommy can’t let himself relax around them for the rest of the day. Even as they try to fall back into the normalcy of six years ago, Tommy still puts his arms in front of his face and flinches if they get too close to his person. Then, comes time to feed the animals, and Tommy finally lets a peaceful smile come to his face as he goes into the barn and starts to clean the bedding straw and replace the cow’s food hay. 

Now a big, beautiful adult cow, Henry moos softly at him when he comes into the big, expansive barn. “Hey, Henry,” Tommy murmurs, grinning at the cow and petting the soft, patterned coat on the top of his head. “How’re you doing, boy?” He asks, starting to replenish the cow’s food and going around to the other cows in the pen.

“Good morning, Ms. Cassie.” Tommy drawls, laughing a little, watching the old milk cow moo at him, eyes conveying a motherly look. She’d had many a calf, one of the few original cows to still be on the farm. 

Walking over to the sheep, Tommy combs his fingers through the sheep’s thick coat, the wool making it slightly harder to brush in an even stroke. “Oi, Mary! Stop eating Dottie’s food,” He chides with a gentle giggle, watching as the sheep ‘baa’s and rolls her eyes, moving away from the other sheep’s food. He looks over toward the barn door, and catches Phil’s eyes, along with his brothers. 

He flinches a little, mostly in surprise, so accustom to seeing nothing. “Um, do you guys wanna help with lunch?” He asks, biting is lip. He’d be fine if they said no, he’d gotten decent at making food over the years- after all, Tommy isn’t sure he’d have made it if he tried to survive off only burnt toast and too-sugary lemonade. But to his surprise, Tubbo grins, nodding excitedly, “Yeah! I’m great at cooking!” He says, which Tommy doesn’t doubt. Tubbo had always been better than him, at everything. 

The group get inside the cottage and Tubbo sets to work. Tommy watches him for a few moments, hesitant. Tubbo probably wouldn’t like him messing with his stuff and getting in his way. Tommy chews at the inside of his cheek as he watches his (only slightly) older brother work his magic about the kitchen, grabbing utensils and cooking supplies from random cabinets. 

Right when Tommy goes to sit down, Tubbo smiles over at him. “Come help, yeah?” He asks, both of them in their own little world, content to ignore their other family members as they start to make baked potatoes. Tubbo easily moves around the other people in the kitchen, but Tommy is watching all of their movements like a hawk, making sure to avoid even brushing against them. 

Phil watches the way Tommy skirts around them like he’s afraid of them. Phil watches as Techno and Wilbur painfully witness their youngest brother flinch when they get too close. The only one who Tommy doesn’t tear up looking at is Tubbo. Techno steps too loud and Tommy flinches, Wilbur stares just a little too long and Tommy tears up, and Tommy can’t even look at Phil. He knows it’d been foolish of him to assume Tommy would be all smiles and sunshine after what they’d done to him. 

“Are you guys staying for long?” Tommy asks, glancing between them anxiously. After their family group hug, Tommy had physically and emotionally distanced himself from them again. Phil glances at Techno and Wilbur, who fidget and look around the kitchen, looking guilty. The way Tommy sags in his seat makes Phil’s heart clench. “Oh,” He mumbles, “Well, how long are you guys gonna be here?” He asks quietly, fiddling with his fingers, that are strikingly thin. Tommy, in general, is shockingly thin and willowy, looking too skinny for his age. 

Phil lifts his shoulders in a small shrug like motion, glancing between Wilbur and Techno again before answering, “Tubbo is seventeen, now. He could stay with you, if you’d like. But I…” He cuts himself off, not wanting to say that he’d made a new life for himself after he’d left his youngest son.

Thankfully, they don’t have to delve into that, right now, because Tubbo jumps at the opportunity. “Oh! Can I? Tommy, I’d love to stay with you!” He rushes the words, practically tripping over every word that comes from his mouth. Tommy looks between Phil and Tubbo with wide, hopeful eyes. Even after being betrayed, Tommy still puts so much trust in them. Phil knows he doesn’t deserve it. 

“I… w-why would you want to stay with m-me?” Tommy asks, surprising those surrounding him. Even when he was young, Tommy was brimming and bursting with confidence. Phil feels tears prick at his eyes, knowing he’d done this to his son. Tubbo looks moments from bursting into sobs, but quickly answers anyway.

“Because, you’re my brother, Tommy. Phil took me away from you and I thought about you every day.” Tubbo confesses, unknowingly reciting all of Tommy’s hopes and dreams. Tommy leans against him at the kind and loving words. “You can stay, Tubs.” Tommy murmurs, the older men of the family watching the scene with heavy hearts and guilt in their veins. 

***

Later that night, Tubbo curls around Tommy like a mother cat curling protectively around her kitten. They lay on Tommy’s bed, and Tubbo almost cries when he recognizes his own blankets covering it. “Did you really mean what you said earlier?” Tommy mumbles, sleepiness coating his tone, dripping from his words like thick liquid honey. 

Tubbo plays with Tommy’s fingers gently, humming in confusion. “What do you mean?” He asks quietly, breathing light and warm against Tommy’s hair. Tommy curled slightly more into himself, shyly humming before answering. 

“Just… that you thought about me everyday?” He asks quietly, sounding like he was preparing for Tubbo to say that it was all a lie, like Tommy genuinely thought Tubbo didn’t care about him. Tubbo feels a rage spark inside him that would make the Blood God sweat, but at the same time, silent tears start to swim in his eyes, not falling, but threatening it. 

He nods, pressing a gentle, and hopefully comforting, kiss to Tommy’s temple. By the way Tommy only tenses for a split second before relaxing, Tubbo thinks it succeeds. “I never stopped thinking about you, and I didn’t talk to Phil for a month after he told me what he’d done. I’m so sorry, Toms. I wanted to run away and come home, but we were so far from here, and I was only eleven,” Tubbo says.

For months, Tubbo had made plan after plan of ways to come back to their little cottage, and rescue Tommy. But each time, Tubbo discovered a fault in the plan or execution. He either hadn’t enough money, or sometimes he got so scared at the prospect of Phil discovering his plans that he’d throw them all out and unpack his bags, leaving him back at square one. 

Tommy moves his head so he’s pressed into Tubbo’s chest. It’s a little awkward, with how big Tommy had gotten in the years Tubbo’d been gone, but Tubbo can’t bring himself to move, in fear of setting Tommy off like the younger boy is an easily-frightened cat. The slightest movement sending him back to the other side of the bed. 

“It’s okay.” Tommy whispers after a few, long drawn out moments of relaxed quiet. “It’s okay.” He repeats, just as quiet as before. Though it doesn’t little to quell the fury thundering inside Tubbo like a hurricane, he smiles softly at the other.

He stares at the wall as he speaks, Tubbo knowing Tommy would probably dislike his words, “You should yell at then. Tomorrow, or whenever you’re ready.” He says. Tommy squirms minimally, physically showing his displeasure at the idea. Tubbo waits for him to say something, or object, maybe make a joke to deflect the topic like he had when he was younger, but when he doesn’t, Tubbo continues. 

“I’ve already screamed at them. And I’m still… so _angry_ at them. I know you feel like you shouldn’t, but you need to let it out. Even if you can’t do it to them, vent to me. Scream at me, cry, break things. I don’t care.” Tubbo says, wanting to say something like he deserves to be screamed at, but he knows that’ll only make Tommy concerned, and Tubbo doesn’t want to distract the other with his own personal problems.

When the final word leaves his mouth, Tommy looks up at him, eyes red rimmed and teary like they had been all day. They painfully and forcefully remind Tubbo of Tommy’s tenth birthday, when instead of cake and presents, Tommy got a pitiful chocolate cookie and nothing. When, instead of the ‘happy birthday’ song, Tommy was gifted a screaming match from his father and older brother. 

“I don’t think I’m ready yet.” Tommy admits, sounding nervous. Tubbo nods, accepting, and Tommy resumes speaking his thoughts, which rush by so quickly it makes him dizzy, “But, in a few days, maybe?” He says, the words coming out more questioning than stating. The only thing Tubbo can do is nod and accept what Tommy is telling him. It’s the least he can do for this boy who looks like he hasn’t eaten in days, and has dark purple stains under his eyes. 

So he nods, and presses another tired kiss to Tommy’s head before letting his eyes close, hoping and praying to whatever god that’s out there that Tommy would be okay, like he’d been doing every night for the last six years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's a bit shorter, but i rlly didn't know how to continue without just completely writing the fourth chapter so


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just take it im tired

_"When can I say your name and have it mean only your name and not what you left behind?" -Unknown_

Mornings were strictly business, Tommy knew. But as he layed in bed, curled and cuddled against Tubbo, he couldn’t find it in himself to move from the comforting, warm spot. Tubbo was breathing evenly, a sigh every once in a while escaping the older boy. Getting up and about meant leaving his newly-found brother, and the solace that he brung. Tommy curled tighter into himself; leaving meant having to face the rest of his family. 

“Toms?” Tubbo’s sleepy voice mumbled into the quiet, early morning. Tommy let his eyes flutter back open just in time to see Tubbo’s do the same, and the two make eye contact, blue meeting green. 

A small smile appears on Tommy’s face, and he whispers back a soft, “Hey, Tubs.” 

The nicknames make Tommy feel giddy. Him and Tubbo had been very close as young children, rarely ever fighting, even more rarely seen away from each other. When Tubbo had been taken, Tommy had spent many a night sobbing into his pillows and wishing to just hear his dad and brother come back through the front door. 

Mixed in with his sobs and wails, was the chanting mantra of “Tubs” and “Tubbo.” A broken record’s ~~child’s~~ cries of pleads for his family’s return. 

He smiles gently at Tubbo, and gets a soft, sleepy smile in return. “You okay?” Tubbo asks quietly, curling further around him. 

Tommy silently sighs, and looks up toward the ceiling. “I just can’t believe you guys are back.” He says. “Its so surreal.” Tommy mumbles, glancing back at Tubbo before looking upward again. The ceiling has a multitude of cracks and breaks in the plaster. 

Tubbo wraps himself tighter around Tommy, “I’m sorry.” He murmurs. “I love you,” Tubbo offers, and Tommy finds it to be the sweetest words he’s ever heard. 

“Thank you.” He says, words shaking and Tommy feels tears fill his eyes. “You don’t have to thank me for loving you, Toms.” Tubbo says, pulling back and making eye contact with his younger brother. 

Tommy smiles a little, though it’s teary and weak. “I love you too.” He says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the end, im rlly sorry but my motivation for this story has just kinda disappeared. Maybe i'll do something with this another time, but for right now if any one wants to take this story and do something with it be my guest

**Author's Note:**

> hehe was feelin kinda sad s0

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A road towards recovery ( or worse )](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28535229) by [SingSingy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingSingy/pseuds/SingSingy)
  * [Tommy all alone](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28646769) by [FrickDaCar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrickDaCar/pseuds/FrickDaCar)
  * [Slam A Door & See Me Shake](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28689210) by [FrickDaCar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrickDaCar/pseuds/FrickDaCar)




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